Living with the Wolf
by Blue Heron Hunting
Summary: Remus Lupin finds that life after Hogwarts is harder than he'd imagined. Remus-centric with cameos from other characters.
1. Chapter 1

The wolf was always there. Lingering. Waiting at the back of things.

Remus took himself to be a fairly competent wizard at charms. He had scored highest on them in his OWLS. Now, seated in a foul-smelling alley in London, he was bent double in concentration, trying to charm a button back onto his nice green jacket. To call anything of his belongings "nice" was perhaps an overstatement, but this particular jacket had been given to him four years before by his friend Sirius.

"_Prospero dalgum_," he muttered, waving his wand carefully.

The button left his hand and flew to the correct place on his jacket, rested a moment, then tumbled to the ground. "Merlin's sake!" He cursed.

He plunged his hand downward and scooped up the button for the umpteenth time. He could imagine Flitwick's expression of dismay. Then again, homemaking wizardry had never been a particular focus at Hogwarts.

"_Prospero dalgum_," he spoke again. Then once the button had arrived on his jacket he swiftly followed this with "_Perminentia!"_ and a quick jab with his wand. This time it held.

There was nothing he could do about the way the collar threaded and the soft corduroy had lost it's meshing at his elbows. There were charms to conceal them, of course, but he didn't have the luxury of access to a library.

Straightening he raised his lanky form it its full six feet. Best he could do.

The first business he entered in Diagon Alley was a bakery shop. In this, he felt he could do very well – perhaps he would even be allowed to take home old bread.

He waited for a young couple ahead of him to finish up their transaction. The man was about his own age, but taller. The woman had one infant in her arms and a second at arms' length, trying to keep him reeled in. All four had electrifying red hair.

"No, no," the red haired man said to the witch behind the counter. "I'll have just the one loaf this week. We're having my uncle to stay next month."

The witch was pleasant and smiling, spoke some consoling words, and took his coin for bread. Remus shifted suddenly. Would it be rude to ask for employment without buying anything? His hands, buried in the pockets of his pants, were suddenly very aware that he had no coins at all.

"Can I help you?"

It was too late to back out of it now, and he needed the job. Remus cleared his throat softly and peered at her carefully, feeling every bit without a Knut to his name.

"Um, ma'am, I – I was wondering if you would be interested in hiring somebody. You know, to work. I can learn just about anything." And in a stroke of panic he added, "I scored really well on my OWLS."

"Oh," Her pleasant smile faded swiftly. "Well, I don't think Mr. Wartleby is hiring. We really don't have any extra work right now."

"Uh, ok. Well, if you can think of anything – "he caught himself because of course there was no contact information he could leave. His current address was beneath a muggle bridge, just outside London. "Maybe I'll drop by again sometime," he managed, and made quickly for an exit.

Once back on the street, Remus had the strangest feeling in the pit of his stomach, like it was boiling over. He wondered if it was the wolf – trying to get out. The wolf was always with him.


	2. Chapter 2

_It was so soft, warm – hot with the taste of iron. He sank his mouth into it, full to the teeth. He was in a wood…the Forbidden Forest. Not long before he had been chasing something. He loved to chase. He loved to chase even more than he loved the warm, living taste of blood. He saw a form up ahead of him, a form he seemed to recognize the back and shoulders of…He was nearly upon him now. Closer! Faster!_

Lupin jerked. He was awake. Cold with dread and the wolf, but awake. There were no dreams so vivid that would have unyielding asphalt under his shoulders and a gnawing hunger in his belly.

An ice colored sky announced that dawn was coming. He could vaguely see his hands before his face. Scared that sleep would draw him into more bloodthirsty dreams… scared that he knew who the figure was that he had only seen from behind, Remus rolled to his feet and began to pull together his pack and blankets. Perhaps he could shrug off the desires of the wolf. It wouldn't be a full moon for another eight days.

Sirius was meeting him at the Leaky Cauldron at ten.

Remus was looking forward to it. Sirius understood, better than James or Peter, how Remus needed to look after himself. . Peter's reaction to tales of living under bridges came in expressions of distaste – the mousy boy always was one for creature comforts. James decided on heckling him to come live in Godrics Hollow, that their house had more than enough room for a young couple and a werewolf. But Remus needed his own place in live, wherever that might be. Only Sirius understood; the heir of the Black household had been cut off since he was sixteen.

BANG! The apparition took him just within the shadowy entry of the Leaky Cauldron and nearly on top of Tom, the barkeep. The man's shout of astonishment drew the eyes of several muggles within the vicinity (more or less because it began with "Shakespearean dwimmerdelfs!" and ended with "It's a damn _werewolf_!") after which he quieted enough to say "My, you've seen better days."

"Hi, Tom," Remus answered.

"You know I don't cater to your kind in my bar. Can't be having teeth and blood, scaring off customers, trying to transform children…" Tom was speaking gruffly and looking down at his feet. After all, he had known Remus since he was a boy – Tom had been around forever. "…and scaring all the witches." He finished. The old barkeep finally tilted his head to bring watery blue eyes into contact with Remus' brown ones. "But seeing as it's YOU, I'll let you sit in a nice shadowy corner, 'long as you mind your own and don't bother no-one."

Remus smiled. That's exactly what he intended to do.

Once seated at a tiny table furthest from the door, he sipped his tea (which he has asked for) and munched an only slightly stale cinnamon bun (which he hadn't). He had a book open before him and was eagerly reading about how to deliver a Knockback Jinx when a person pulled out the chair opposite him and took a seat.

The man seated across from him was huge, fair-haired, and had the grimmest expression Remus had ever seen on someone sitting in a quiet bar on a Monday morning.

He was a complete stranger.

Instinct had Remus measuring the man's bulging muscles against his own lanky 18 year-old self and coming up very, very short.

"Are you lost?"

"I am not lost. I know where I am and I know who you are." The man had a thick Russian accent.

"I'm not familiar."

"This is the Leaky Cauldron. You are called Lupin. You're a werewolf."

"No, I mean that I'm not familiar with _you._"

"I am called Valentin Volkov."

"How do you know I'm a werewolf?" Really, it wouldn't be that hard to figure out. Werewolves were usually scarred following a full moon and hollow-eyed and gaunt leading up to one. At the moment, Remus was neither of these, but he had been lurking in Diagon Alley long enough that someone might've seen him before and after a full moon and put two and two together.

There was also the less alarming possibility that Tom had told him.

"You are looking for work, you know what I'm saying? I know where you can work." Valentin ignored his question entirely.

"Where?" Remus wasn't sure about this guy. There had been talk recently of a dark wizard gathering followers, killing muggles and torturing the odd vagrant. Remus had heard these stories because he himself was a vagrant - news rarely travels faster than between hobos. Valentin was big and scary and had a terribly grim face, Remus felt the man was definitely capable of cursing the odd travelling half-breed. However, his eyes were steady and calm, he didn't seem to be here to threaten anyone.

"Knockturn Alley, go to the place called "Slytherin's Flame". You will have work, a place to sleep."

Remus was, and continued to be proud to be, a Gryffindor. The mention of Salazar Slytherin did not warm his feelings about this job prospect.

"Hey!" He cried as the man got up and began to leave. "Why are you telling me this?"

Valentin paused, "Don't forget," he said, slowly rounding the vowels with a Russian tongue as he spoke.

Then with a POP, he apparated.


	3. Chapter 3

"Sirius, I need your help."

Black sat across from him a mere hour after Volkov had departed.

"Hm, not much of an opening," the handsome youth quipped as he faced his old schoolmate. Sirius, always unruly in his dark way, was currently experimenting with an amount of beard along his jawline that did much to improve his features and nothing to detract from them. "How about 'Dearest friend, how are you getting along these days?'"

Remus managed a wry smile. "I'm sorry, Padfoot. How are you?"

"Eh, seen better days. You know how it is, trying to keep up with three girlfriends, working long hours, barhopping every night…"

In a way that Remus had always envied, Sirius was able to pick up and drop jobs within weeks. He had tested the flight of new brooms, worked briefly in Bulgaria before claiming the weather didn't agree with him, and helped several renowned scholars locate previously unknown species of "toadstools and treefrogs" (his words). His latest job was in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry – hired despite the fact that his interview had been for a lowly position in the Postal Room.

"Are you looking to leave the Ministry already?" Remus asked, already knowing the answer. Nevertheless he listened as Sirius elucidated all the demands the Ministry was making of his ("admittedly brilliant") talents. However, when Remus attempted to express sympathy, he found himself quickly cut off –

"You said you need my help? Name anything."

This was why Remus loved his Black friend so much. However easily he seemed to coast through life, however self-absorbed - he would go to Azkaban and back for a friend. Remus leaned close. Even in the dimmest corner of the Leaky Cauldron, he would rather not be overheard.

"Sirius, I need a safe place. I can't be using the shrieking shack any longer… I dare not risk some fool young student…"

Sirius half-smiled at this. In times past _he_ had been that fool. His face sobered quickly though as he sank into thought. "I'm guessing this means you changed last time – where? – under a bridge?"

Remus was instantly flooded with shame. "Cornfield."

Black's eyebrows rose. "I thought I was the reckless one, Mooney. Was there anyone nearby?"

Remus winced. "I can't recall, Sirius. You know I can't remember much after…I woke near a deer carcass. It was torn to pieces. I can only hope that was the only damage I had done."

"Alright, I'll find you a place. Give me three days. If my eye on the moon is still accurate you will change in eight, correct?" Remus nodded. "Then I will find you before then…I can't use any of the Black properties, of course, not with my family so deep in this new "Deatheater" business. But I'll find you something."

Remus wondered if the Deatheaters were the ones he had heard rumors about, but his friend was already offering him a rapid smile, doffing his beer and doubling up his scarf. There was no need to mention his visit from Volkov…the last thing he wanted his successful friend to know was how difficult it was for him to find work. With a smile and a swift embrace they both moved for the door.

An hour later, Remus found a handful of Galleons in his pocket that had not been there before…The heir to the Black fortune had been gifted with the nimble fingers of a thief.


	4. Chapter 4

It was a difficult decision - Murielle Godspell's _Magical Hexes for Practical Good_ or Peter Lovington-Kaiser's _How to Repel the Dark Arts, volume III. _

Remus stood in a dusty-smelling corner of the used bookstore that had become his favorite place to go since he'd discovered it two days ago. The shop was no bigger than some people's dining room but it was stacked floor-to-ceiling with the peeling backs of old tomes. Even better, the elderly witch who owned the place was mean and liked to spell stacks of books to fall randomly – but she was also going blind and hadn't realized yet that Remus was a werewolf.

This was fortunate because he had been turned out of Flourish and Blott's. Following graduation from Hogwarts, word had slowly gotten out about Remus' night-time adventures, whether by word from Severus Snape or some other means, Remus was unclear. However, it made several of his old schoolmates very angry that they had been forced to share their school with a werewolf without even knowing it, and one such soul was John Dawlish.

"You! Lupin!" were the words Remus had been interrupted with two weeks ago as he quietly read at Flourish and Blott's.

The angry face of the eighteen year-old Hufflepuff Dawlish, over which towered the outrageously tall hairstyle that was the fashion of the day, appeared disturbingly close to Remus' own.

"You can't be in here! You're a damn half-breed! Your kind doesn't even belong in Diagonal Ally!"

This wasn't entirely correct. The Ministry had not issued any such ordinance, however most werewolves stayed away from large gatherings of wizards for other reasons.

Patrons had stirred and were turning cold eyes towards the two young men.

"What's this?" cried a new voice, this one belonging to a middle-aged witch in a gold-colored hat who clearly worked there.

"If I had known that you catered to _werewolves_ I would've stopped my patronage of this shop years ago," Dawlish punctuated this furiously with a forefinger in the witch's startled face. Her face did not remain startled for long however, before her usually pleasant features twisted into disgust.

"I'll have you know, young man, that we certainly do NOT." Her wand had already been raised and was directed at Remus, who was experiencing a rapidly sinking sensation. In the back of his mind he felt the wolf begin to rage at the threatening faces suddenly directed towards him. His hands trembled as he carefully placed down the book.

Too late to reach for his own wand, the witch had cast a hex at him and his limbs suddenly felt as though they'd been turned to jelly. But it was not over yet. Encouraged by her attitude, Dawlish brought his own wand out. Remus was beset with a stinging spell that felt horribly like a nest of wasps was attacking him. Legs trembling and folding under him, he lunged toward Dawlish with his fists ready but stumbled, knocked over a table of books and was attempting to untangle himself from a pile of screaming hexbooks when there was a loud rushing sound, the impact as though he'd run into a wall, and then nothing.

Remus landed hard on the asphalt beyond the stoop of Flourish and Blott's, still stinging from Dawlish's hex. Rage flared in him such as he had rarely experienced. The smooth cypress wood of his wand dug into his palm as his knuckles whitened. He wanted to stun Dawlish silly and then wear out his fists on his face.

Instead, he tucked his long legs beneath him and stood, straightening his jacket as he rose. People on the street were staring. The spell to evict someone from a shop was good entertainment and Remus could practically smell the curiosity sent his direction.

Dawlish was a fucking idiot.

Shrugging off that he'd just been blasted through a doorway and gritting his teeth against the sting of the hex (the jelly-leg spell had already mostly worn off) he sauntered down the street towards the Leaky Cauldron. He needed to get out of Diagon Alley. The wolf was roaring in his ears…


End file.
